


Retribution

by kitkatkaylie



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Doomed Relationship, Execution, F/M, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:08:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29030661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkatkaylie/pseuds/kitkatkaylie
Summary: The lords demand retribution for the sacking of the North, demand blood for blood, life for life. They threaten civil war if their Queen does not execute the man who led the Ironborn to Winterfell...
Relationships: Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark
Comments: 9
Kudos: 14





	Retribution

“I don’t want to do this.” Sansa whispered, fearful of being heard, fearful of not being heard, “You don’t deserve it.”

Theon smiled at her. It was a weak smile. It was a brave smile. It was a comforting smile.

“I do. Sansa, I do deserve it. I killed children. I betrayed a man I had claimed as my king. I stood by and watched as you were raped and tortured, and only did something when it was almost too late. I deserve to die.”

“Let me send you away, let me help you escape.” She pleaded, holding on to him with all her strength, “Let me save you.”

Theon wrapped his arms around her and clutched her close, “To do so would invite war, my Queen. Your lords would mutiny, the North would fracture, and the South would sweep in and steal your independence. No one life is worth all that.”

Sansa knew that he was right, no matter how much she might have wished otherwise. 

“I hate this.” She admitted, “I hate it so much. I wanted to  _ marry  _ you. Not- not sign your death warrant.”

Theon pulled her even closer, so her head was pressed against his chest. His heartbeat echoed in her ear. His heartbeat that was soon to be forever silenced.

“I have caused so much trouble and strife with the choices I made to stay alive, let me keep the peace with my death.” 

There were so many things Sansa wanted to say. So many things she wanted to do. And yet she just lay there, safe in his arms, his heartbeat lulling her into a state of comfort it was unlikely she would ever achieve again.

They lay there, wrapped in each other, savouring each other. Sansa tried to commit every moment to memory, she did not want to forget any moments. 

When the pale light of dawn started to shine through the window her heart began to race. Their time was up. A sentiment only confirmed by the sharp knock on her door. 

“Your Grace?” Lord Glover’s voice echoed through the door, “The lords are assembled. It’s time.”

* * *

The day was mocking with its brightness, the sun shining down and making the metal of the executioner’s blade shine.

Tears started to fall down Sansa’s cheeks, but she did not care. Let them all bear witness to the pain she felt at being forced to do this. Let the lords know the pain they had caused her.

Theon smiled up at her. A strange sight, a man with his head upon the block smiling. A condemned man smiling at the one who had ordered his execution.

“Theon of House Greyjoy, I, Sansa of House Stark, Queen in the North, do sentence you to death.” Her voice cracked halfway through and she had to pause for a moment to regain her composure, “If you have any final words then I will hear them now.”

Theon’s eyes met hers, and they contained the same resolve that had been in them when he’d been ready to give himself up to Ramsay’s men to give her the chance to escape.

“It’s alright. I love you.” 

Her tears started to fall even faster, blurring her vision and reddening her eyes, but Sansa did not care. What she cared about was that Theon was to die, the man she loved was to die, on her orders.

“I love you too.” She said back, once more uncaring of the eyes upon them. Let them know what they had demanded. Let them know the pain they were putting her through.

She steadfastly raised her gaze, to meet each of the lords in turn. They were unwavering. And yet there was a hint of guilt in a few of their eyes, not enough to cause them to call off the event or rescind their demands, but a hint nonetheless.

Sansa turned her gaze to the executioner and nodded. A short sharp nod, one that would haunt her nightmares for years to come.

The executioner nodded back, and with that acknowledgment Sansa turned back to Theon.

Desperately she drank in the sight of him, the sight of him breathing and  _ alive _ . His blue eyes open and warm and loving. His cheeks flushed with warmth and pink with life.

She wanted nothing more than to look away, to retain her last memory of him being alive, but she would not do him such an indignity as not witnessing his final moments. She owed it to him to be looked in the eye as her orders were carried out, as was the old way.

Their gazes locked, and everything seemed to pass between them. Love and pain and hopes for the future. Dreams that would never be realised, regrets that haunted them, and above all a love that would not die with him.

Time seemed to slow as the blade fell, a long moment where anything was possible stretching out before them. 

A spray of blood.

The clunk of a blade against wood.

And Theon’s head hit the floor with a thud that seemed to echo in Sansa’s ears. It was paired with a faint scream of grief, one that she only realised was coming from her mouth when the lords turned to stare at her with concern.

Sansa did not care.

Sansa was beyond caring.

All she could do was stare at the blood pooling from where Theon’s head had once been. 

All she could do was cry.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @istaricelebelasse


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